


Nishba'al-- One Last Sacrifice

by VerbenaDestroyer



Series: One Last Sacrifice [1]
Category: Mass Effect
Genre: F/M, Family, Hope, Love, One Last Battle, Other, Pain, Sacrifice
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-14
Updated: 2014-05-05
Packaged: 2018-01-15 16:20:16
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 7
Words: 16,609
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1311265
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VerbenaDestroyer/pseuds/VerbenaDestroyer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Shepard survives the battle with the Reapers and rebuilds her life with Garrus. :)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Recovery

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! This is my first work and I have a lot more to add. I hope you enjoy it!  
> This takes place after ME3, where I have decided I couldn't deal with Shepherds death, so she lived, and I've decided I'll figure out exactly how later on in the story... Please leave any comments and constructive criticism!

Shepard fidgeted in the faux-leather armchair, rubbing her arm nervously. She looked around the office, noticing a dying plant in the corner of the room. Her eyes followed up to the hanging certificates and holo documents perched on the wall above the Asari’s desk. Her gaze wandered outside to the many sky cars zooming about the crowded sky space on Illium.

The sun rose slowly, however much faster compared to Earth, with a purple-pink haze floating over the sky. She sighed heavily at the thought of Earth. What would she do to go back at this point? True, most of her time would be spent cleaning the Reaper’s mess, or taking care of Alliance business somewhere in either London or Vancouver. And there would be the racism Tarren would have to deal with throughout his childhood, but, she was 30 years old. Her family was growing. How much time did she really have left? Mindoir was close enough to Earth, but she wanted to explore her home planet. She’d been in foreign space her whole life, she even saved the damn planet, why not explore her home world? Settle there?

 

But bringing Tarren to a foreign planet wouldn’t be much help to him. Maybe, after she was gone, Garrus and Tarren could go to Palaven and settle. After she was gone… Again? That was another mess she really didn’t want to go into, not right now…

Now, she almost wished she would have stayed dead. Almost.

  
The Asari, Dr. Damerus, adjusted herself in her own chair. She smiled a small, kind grin to Shepherd, and expected one in return. Shepherd sighed once again, crossing her arms.

>   
>  “So, let’s talk this week, Jane.”
> 
>   
>  “Shepherd.” She plainly corrected.
> 
>   
>  “Okay…” She shifted again, resting the data pad on her other thigh. “Let’s talk.”
> 
>   
>  “You know, if you’d watch the vids, you’d see how much I really don’t need to deal with this right now. I don’t need someone to talk to; I have my family and my crew for that.” She looked with piercing blue eyes, waiting for a snarky response.
> 
>   
>  “Well, Mrs…” She glanced at the data pad, “Vakarian, I assume it would be by Earth standards—“
> 
>   
>  “Actually, no. And I really don’t appreciate your attitude.” She stood, towering over the Asari at the moment.
> 
>  
> 
> She began to walk out of the office when the Asari shot back, “Just because you think you can handle this now, doesn’t mean you won’t be a sobbing, pathetic ball in the corner of my office in six months!”
> 
>  

Shepherd glanced back as she shot a biotic charge pushing the Asari off her chair to the floor, and scattering her papers around the office and out the window. The door shut behind her and blocked out the doctor’s scream of frustration. She would not dare strike back at Shepherd, especially not in this state. She met Garrus as she proudly walked out of the Arzarus Towers.

 

Garrus hooked his arm around her waist and led her to the skycar. Both doors opened and he helped her inside.

 

>   
>  “So, I take it we’ll need to find another one?” He chuckled at the memory of the 3rd biotic charge he witnessed Shepherd fling at a counselor.
> 
>   
>  “You know I don’t want to do this anymore.” She sighed, yet again, and watched the sky out her window.
> 
>   
>  “Jane, you know you’re not okay. If I can see it, you’re more than just not okay.” He steered the shuttle into traffic and drove toward their nearby condominium on the East side of Illium.
> 
>   
>  “Garrus, you’ve been into combat with me how many times? How many suicide missions have we been on together? How many times have I died, and been ‘okay’?”
> 
>   
>  “Jane we’re not talking about that.” He let a growl rumble under his voice.
> 
>   
>  “What? Me dying? Being rebuilt?”
> 
>   
>  “Yes, that.” He let another growl rumble in his sub-vocals. “Maybe you’re okay with that, but what about your crew? What about me? I was not anywhere near 'okay,' in any form, for two years while I thought you were dead. Remember Archangel? Omega?”
> 
>   
>  “Yes, I more than remember, thank you very much…” Her risen tone suddenly dropped as she put a hand on her stomach.
> 
>   
>  “I didn’t—“He sighed, disappointed in himself.

 

 

He parked the shuttle and let his wife out of the other side, helping her with a bulging belly. He led her inside and let her sit on the sofa while he followed the shrill Turian shrieks to the kitchen. Tali had Tarren in his high-chair (that strange vertical chair humans use for feeding their young that Kasumi had “purchased” from the Citadel as a ‘baby shower’ gift. Man, was that a culture shock…)

 

Garrus laughed as he scooped up Tarren in his arms and held the giggling, purring Turian snuggled up to his chest. Tali gathered a towel in her hands, drying them from the dish water she had been working in.

>   
>  “Tali, you really didn’t have to do that, I could have finished them when I got here.”
> 
>   
>  “No worries, what are you supposed to do when such a smart baby is feeding himself for a half hour? And refusing any help with feeding utensils…” She dabbed Tarren’s face, cleaning off what was left of the nutrient paste breakfast.
> 
>   
>  “Well, thank you very much, for all that you do, Tali. Shep and I appreciate it, more than you know.”
> 
> Tarren began to squeal and screech for his mother, so Garrus hurriedly took him to his object of desire. Shep took her son in her arms, screeching for him as well, however, not so shrilly painful, and snuggled him tightly against her neck. He rubbed his soft, leathery skin against her flesh, and dug his talons deep into her clothing.
> 
>   
>  “Thank you again Tali, it’s so helpful, I wish you would at least take a little bit of something for your trouble.”
> 
>   
>  “Never Shepherd, not after what we’ve been through. And even if we hadn’t been to hell and back, I’d never charge anyone anything to spend time with a cutie like that!” Tali gathered her belongings by the door, which cued Tarren to screech out in sorrow at her leave. Tali laughed, returned to smooth over his plumage, and said her goodbyes.

  
Garrus returned to his little family, and as Tali opened the door, Ghost, their pet varren, came running down the stairs, desperate to say goodbye before her departure. She pet the varren then slipped out the door. Ghost whined, then joined the family in the living room. Garrus pet the albino varren, which sat at his feet.

>  
> 
>   
>  “Can you believe the Urdnots actually gave us a varren? As a pet? I still can’t… and it’s been almost two years since our wedding.”  
>  “I can, definitely. Can you believe Illium let us keep him?” She chuckled.
> 
>   
>  “Ha, well, you know what they say about Illium…” He stopped as he trailed off, looking back in apology. Shepherd was busy making noises at her son, who flared his mandibles and chirped back in glee. Garrus could still see the pain on her face.
> 
>   
>  “Honey, honestly, we need to talk about this. I keep screwing up and making things awkward, and I don’t want to hurt you anymore than you already are.”
> 
>   
>  She sighed, “After Tarren goes to bed. Whatever we finally decide to do, I don’t want him to think back about our conversation and hate his brother or sister…” Garrus nodded, then stood.

 

Shepherd kissed her son, who nuzzled her back, and leaped off her bloated belly to the floor to climb on Ghost. Ghost set off at a decent pace, trotting him around the home while Tarren shrieked with joy. Garrus went off to the kitchen to prepare a brunch for Shepherd and himself, while Jane fell into a deep sleep.


	2. The Talk

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Garrus has a flashback of the attack, and He and Shepherd decide what to do with the foreign child.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Batarians are ugly mofos.... JS

Garrus grabbed a bowl from the kitchen cabinet and placed it on the counter beside the cooling cabinets, containing some Earthen foods as well as nutrient paste for himself and Tarren. He squeezed the paste out of the metallic feeling tube, and took a utensil with him as he carried it to the sofa across from Jane. He decided since she wouldn’t be up for a while, making a meal right now would be pointless. He heaved a tired sigh, beginning to become disgusted from the paste, and wished for a home cooked meal from Palaven. Or, at least the Citadel.

 

He pushed it around in mountains and rivers while waiting for Jane to wake. Tarren clumsily walked over to his father and quipped while rubbing his eye. Garrus smiled at him, and offered a spoon-full of the paste to him, which he gladly consumed. Ghost lazily returned from outside, lying down in front of the sofa where Jane lay. Tarren wandered off to his nursery to play, while Garrus watched the small child disappear around the corner.

He turned his eyes to Jane, sleeping peacefully on the sofa. He noted her eyes, bright blue like his under her bold, natural lashes. Muscles were strong in her neck, even given the last two years of retirement and pregnancy. Along her neck, medium-length, onyx black hair lie flowing across her chest. Her breasts were supple, but… this concept meant almost nothing to Turians. Turian infants could eat solid food almost immediately after birth, so there was no need for milk. The mammary glands were strictly an Earthling mammal thing… However, her waist was slim and supportive, which was indeed a similarity between species. Wide hips and a muscular, strong core, yes, very attractive. It was strange not to see her in armor, as that had been almost a constant in every interaction since before their retirement. Well, almost. He snickered mischievously at the memories of nights spent in her cabin.

 

His smile faded when he continued farther down her body. Her stomach was bulging, even under the blankets that were pulled up to her chin. Larger than when she were pregnant with Tarren. He became angry first, as he always did while recalling the memory. However, lately he became depressed more quickly than he had the last time he remembered. The child inside was not his. It was not wanted, and its existence was hated.

 

It was not only the pain inflicted on Jane that hurt him. Yes, the daily physical tortures, the emotional, mental, and physical scars she would carry forever, (like she didn’t have enough already,) but the way this final battle broke her. She had died, been rebuilt, and continued on. She had boarded a collector base and survived, while keeping him and the rest of her team alive. She had fought the Reapers on Earth and lived through seeing her home world destroyed, and has dealt through the pain. All the pain she had dealt with, all of the worlds she had saved, and this is what she gets in return. He begged her not to go, screaming for her not to break her promise: “No more missions.” She convinced him. With her sweet, calming, yet stern voice, told him she was going. Going to Omega to help Liara with some work; delicate work that needed a trusted, steady hand to deal with. She promised she would be fine, after the shakedown she would have a few drinks with Liara and come home. She may have convinced him, but, by the Spirits, he didn’t completely trust her. He left Tarren in the care of Tali, and set off for Omega, trailing Jane along the way.

 

 

> _He stayed out of sight, as Shepherd walked through dark, musky alleys. He lost track of her while dealing with a few Blue Sun’s mercs, taking no damage beyond his shields. After the twenty minute duration of the fight, he got his bearings and tried to pick up on Shepherds trail again._
> 
> _When he found her three blocks over, she was laying naked in a pool of blood. Not twenty feet away was a batarian, whose skull was a bowl for the melted brain matter that had not either been thrust out at impact with the biotic shot or seeped out through his melted eye sockets. There was also a Turian, Krogan, and other Batarian shot dead behind cover nearby. He scooped Jane up in his arms, smearing medi-gel over her wounds. If Turians could cry, he would have been in hysterics at this point. She was unconscious, pupils dilated and non-responsive to reflexes. He gathered her torn clothes from around her and covered her as quickly as he could while swooping her up and running as to the clinic._
> 
> _When he arrived at the clinic, he laid her down on a stretcher, while workers rushed her off to care for her wounds. He immediately called Dr. Chakwas to tell her of the situation. She merely responded with, “I’ll be there shortly.” While still panicking, he graced the clinic by recusing himself to the sidewalk outside the clinic. He sat under the floodlight above the door, waiting._
> 
> _This was bad. Very bad. Her attackers were rightfully dead, so he could not take his molten anger out on anything but himself at the moment. His thoughts immediately went to Liara, for causing this whole mess. Why couldn't she ask for someone else? Why did it just have to be Shepherd?_
> 
> _This did not help. Blaming Liara for a request was not the answer; she would never mean for harm to come to Shep. He stood, pacing a rut in the ground, not knowing what to do with himself. Blaming this horrible tragedy solely on himself; if he had argued a little stronger, rose his voice a little louder, maybe she would not have gone. All this did was drive him deeper into cold depression, as much as he thought it would extinguish his anger. He returned to the curb and waited again. Waiting._

 

A pang of hunger rumbled through his core, and he realized that the only bite taken out of his meal was from Tarren. Ghost was now patiently waiting for a meal of his own, sitting by his bowl in the kitchen. He set his plate on the cushion beside him, and walked to the kitchen to feed the varren. He turned to the cooled compartment and took a large cut of meat to place in the bowl. He called the varren, who had disappeared, and returned to the sofa.

 

The plate was empty, licked clean, and by the time he realized it, Ghost was already devouring his own meal in the kitchen. Garrus let out a sigh of frustration, then laughed it off. He remade his meal again, now hungry enough to possibly enjoy it. He skipped the landscape formation this time and managed to consume a few bites until he heard Tarren squeal in the other room. He almost whimpered as he set down his plate, on the table this time, and made his way to the nursery.

 

The pastel blue room had neutral beige carpeting, and a window overlooking the small yard they owned. White shades covered the window, and the only source of light was from a decorative lighting piece hanging from the ceiling. The child was curled in the corner, holding a blanket to his chest, and letting out a squeal that only other Turians could hear. Garrus immediately picked up on this distress call, while Jane would need a special sound monitor to hear. He swooped the baby up in his arms and held him close to his chest plate. Tarren continued to let out a whine, while Garrus hummed a lullaby in his sub-vocals.

 

The song was half-made up, vaguely recalling a song his mother would hum while he fell asleep as a child. Before he had even finished, Tarren was already cooing in his sleep, his mandibles clacking every other breath or so. Garrus kissed him lightly on his plumage, and laid him down in the crib. Garrus stayed for a while, listening to his son’s soft breaths, watching his hands and feet crunch into little balls then relax. His chest swelled with love and pride in the little life set before him, and finally kissed him one last time for bed.

 

He returned to the living room where Ghost was lazily lounging on the rug. Jane was beginning to stir from her sleep, but he was content on waiting as long as he had to. He returned also to his dinner, which was growing more and more appetizing by the second. Within minutes it was gone, and Garrus returned the dishes to be cleaned in the sink. He approached the bay window of the living area, and looked out at the stars in the sky. (As many as were visible anyway.)

 

The business towers were lighting up the sky, and sky cars were zipping and zooming like shooting stars. This far into the city it was impossible to see space. World-living was great, much more natural and relaxed. The last several years, on the other hand, had been exclusive ship life. His thoughts went to Palaven, how much he wished to bring his son to the fields and forests where he played as a child. To bring Tarren to his grandparents, have Mom cook roasted armaka with sides of lush garden produce. He just wanted his Shepherd there too. Well, she could be, but would be in an envirosuit the entire time, which would take some adjusting. But it could be done. There’s also a shuttle that leaves twice a week for Palaven right here on Illium.

That was it. He was convinced.

 

He let a smile come to his face as he relived a few of his childhood memories on Palaven, and the joy that Tarren would have being on his own planet. He turned toward Shepherd, who was beginning to stir, and had a realization: this trip was going to have to wait. Shepherd didn’t even go to the shops with her body looking the way it did. He also realized what they had promised to discuss after Tarren was asleep. He sighed, his bubbly thoughts popping when faced with reality.

 

She pushed the blankets down below her enormous abdomen, and adjusted herself upright. Garrus walked slowly to the other sofa and sat on the armrest, elbows resting on his knees. She looked up at him and yawned, a strange human reaction to both fatigue and waking. He clicked his mandibles in a bored, meaningless manner, while waiting for her to come to full consciousness. She stood, hobbled to the kitchen and prepared a cup of tea. She returned to him in a few moments and sat facing him, eyes bright, but haunted with topic they were about to discuss.

 

>  
> 
> “I want to keep it.” She said plainly, not looking at him.
> 
>   
>  Garrus sighed in relief, as much as the child’s existence was despised, he never wanted it dead. “Okay, well… Should we move to another condo? Or should I start building onto this one?”
> 
>   
>  She sighed. “No.”
> 
>   
>  He tilted his head at her, asking for an explanation. “Clearly, we don’t have near-enough room.”
> 
>   
>  “I know.”
> 
>   
>  Garrus tilted his head the other way, then the realization hit.  
>  “Adoption?”

 

She stood again, setting her tea on the table beside her, and walked to the familiar bay window, attempting to look up at the stars as Garrus had just a few moments ago. Her chest was tight; it took every bit of herself to not let the emotions come spilling out.

 

 

> “Garrus, I’ve killed, died, and sacrificed every part of my being as a human to save life. I’m not going to kill this baby just because I don’t want it or because its conception was…”
> 
>   
>  She trailed off. Garrus stood, then followed her path over to the window and wrapped his arms around her middle. He set his head on top of hers and let his sub-vocals hum.
> 
>   
>  “I know how much you really do.” He whispered, and smoothed her face with his rough hand, “And it’s not a bad thing.” She finally broke down sobbing.
> 
> He turned her around and let her burry her face into his chest, while he pet her hair. He continued humming while he spoke,  
>  “You are Commander Shepherd, and you have done more things for all races than any single race has done for itself, ever. You are allowed to have your body, your self, and your mind, and you’ve given almost all of it away.”
> 
> He wiped some tears from her face, and brushed her hair away from her face so that he could look into her beautiful blue eyes.
> 
> “This was a siege on your body. You could choose to have this child destroyed, but it’s not its fault, and that’s the only thing stopping you. You love and protect the innocents. And that is something this child will have hopefully have inherited…”  
>  He turned cold at the word.
> 
>  

Inherited.

It would never have anything from him, because… These were obvious thoughts, and right now, Shep was down, and he needed to push everything aside, including protectiveness, anger, and depression, to help her up. He tried at a lighter tone, giving up on the pep-talky voice that the Commander had used so many times, that had put all of his fears to rest long enough to charge into battle with a heart of courage.

 

> “Well, anyways, what I’m trying to say is that… you feel exactly what you feel. There is no reason to change it or feel guilty. And I completely and totally agree with your decision.”

  
She looked up at him, eyes scanning his face and mouth searching for words to say. She tried to speak, but the words turned to mush and she began sobbing again. Garrus looked up at the ceiling and let a smile escape him. It felt wrong to see Shepherd like this, but at the same time hoping that letting out these emotions would bring her peace.

He swooped her up, as if she were lighter than Tarren, and carried her to the bedroom. He let her curl into a ball next to him as they lay down, and put his arm over her in protection.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \---I love this so much! Thank you for the people that read the first one! I didn't expect anyone to read it. I'm still starting out, so please excuse my n00bness. XD  
> \---Armaka is totally made up, but I imagined it as an armadillo like quadruped the size of a deer with plenty of spikes and plates and horns. ^_^  
> \---What do you think Palaven really looks like? Do plants have thick, chlorophyll plate-leaves? I'm thinking about doing a chapter soon down the road... C:  
> \---BTW: This is not my original story, I was on my 6th chapter and at about 20k words when I dropped the damn laptop and lost all my data when it crashed, and didn't upload it to any site or save it to a flash drive. I'm loosely following the original, so this will only amount to half as good as the original at best. LOL


	3. Loss

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is very sad; be prepared if you have a fragile heart.  
> If death of any kind is a trigger for you, DO NOT READ. STOP NOW AND FORGET THIS EXISTS.
> 
> All the feels, many sad, so depress.  
> :(

Once again, Shepard lay in a pool of red, screaming in agony. The blood was slowly slipping with water down the shower drain, only to be replaced faster than it was draining. She tried to contain herself with every contraction her body was forcing, for nothing but to not disturb her son in the other room. Just minutes ago she spent an hour rocking him to sleep in her arms. Now, preparing for a hot shower, she had not even undressed before collapsing to the floor in a writhing heap.

 

She clenched her teeth, attempting to stand, but falling hard on the tile floor. She let a scream escape her mouth, but resolving that to be the last. A thud hit the door, and she heard Ghost clawing at the door, clearly trying to break through the door. She pleaded in her mind for him to stop; for Tarren to stay in his deep sleep. She couldn’t bear to imagine him seeing her like this--

 

Suddenly, a shrill scream from the nursery, accompanied by a desperate clacking call. Shepard began sobbing. This all came from nowhere; twenty minutes ago life was business as usual.

 

Now, death had struck again.

 

She begged her God not to let her die. Not now. Not after everything she’d been through. If Garrus saw her like this—if Tarren…

  
Another shriek.

  
She wiped her face, smearing blood across her eyes. She looked down and noticed half the floor was covered in blood. She needed to get up. Garrus was to be back anytime from getting the groceries, hopefully sooner rather than later. Tarren began screaming almost continuously, and Ghost continued snarling at the door and shredding the carpet on his side of the door.

 

She tried getting to her feet again, but her body contracted again, forcing more blood and pain upon her. She let out a scream again, not able to control herself. She lied in the pool, giving her body a second to regain its strength. She noticed Tarren had ceased his screams. Dread flooded her. No, the extra high railing was MADE for Turian climbers like Tarren. He couldn’t have possibly---

 

Tarren opened the door, letting Ghost in as well. Ghost ran to his master and whined. Tarren wobbled over to his mother and tilted his head in confusion and concern. His mandibles clacked against his mouth plate, and he chirped. He dug his talons into her clothing and pulled. She couldn’t contain her sobs any longer. She shushed him, and held his hand,

 

> “Mommy’s okay, baby. Go back to bed, everything’s okay.”
> 
>  

He wasn’t convinced. He chirped, putting all his weight into his next pull, tearing her sleeve and falling right on his bottom, splashing a puddle of blood. He squealed in frustration. Getting right to his feet, he latched onto her again, this time grabbing flesh. She winced at the pain, then gritted her teeth at the next contraction, holding back a scream. Tarren shrieked again. He tore through her flesh, causing blood to seep onto his talons. She knew he wouldn’t leave her. If she died, he would sit by her corpse, and tear the face off anyone who tried to take her away.

 

For not even a year old yet, he had so much honor, love, and responsibility. Something his father had already ingrained in him, with the help of generations of honorable warriors behind him. Her heart swelled with pride in her husband and son, and let out a laughing sob. She had to get up; else she may sit her forever. She forced Tarren’s claws from her arm, to his frustrated snarl. She moved closer to Ghost, and put her hands on his back. The sink counter was too far away for her to crawl with her son tearing away her flesh, and the varren nudging her. He stood still and strong, picking up on what she was trying to do.

 

He knees trembled under her and her legs felt like lava, burning from pain and not wanting to support her weight. After a good struggle with her body, she stood upright, trembling in pain and blood flowing through her clothes. If she could make it to the kitchen table where she left her Omni-tool, she could call for help, but she was losing blood quickly. Tarren ran a few steps ahead of her, squealing in relief that she was up on her feet.

 

She took a hesitant step forward, almost slipping on the liquid beneath her feet. She leaned over slightly to steady herself on Ghost’s back while she took another step. Another, stronger contraction snuck up on her, and she doubled over in pain. She forced herself to take another step before falling on all fours. She couldn't contain the scream welling in her chest. Tarren screamed as well, in anger and desperation. That one was just like his father.

* * *

 

_“Get up Shepard!” She could hear him screaming at her. “Get the fuck up!”_

  
_A Destroyer’s red particle beam screamed down, not far from their position. He drug her behind fragile cover, that wouldn’t last long._   
_“Commander!”_

  
_He leaned back over the overturned car and took out six husks that were closing in on them._

  
_“Woman, if you don’t get back on your feet, Joker will fly you out of here and I’ll take out the damn Reapers myself!”_

  
_He double checked their position, then opened her chest plate, shoving a shot of adrenaline into her chest and smearing medi-gel on the stab wound he had just created and on lacerations across her abdomen. She gasped for air, coughing, and grabbing franticly to cover her unarmored chest. He pushed away her hands, slammed the plate back on, nice and tight, and helped her to sit upright. He checked over the car and took out a stray husk and watched the Destroyer move a step closer._

  
_“Shepard, I’m not losing you.”_

  
_She looked at him wide-eyed, taking in what almost happened, again._

  
_“We need to move, shields up?”_

  
_She nodded, and he pulled her up by the shoulder as she regained her strength, taking a shot that his shields reflected._

* * *

 

 

Right now, that was Tarren screaming at her. He had just begun speaking, more in Turian than English, but she had picked up on a bit from being with Garrus. The translator picked up most of what he said, but when he took it off, she began to learn. Their vocal structures were so incredibly different, she could hardly repeat a thing he said, but she knew a few words. Tarren was screaming,

 

>   
>  “Mother!”
> 
>   
>  “I love you!”
> 
>   
>  “Please!”

  
Over and over, which was very unusual, even though those were few of the only words he knew. He used screams, facial expressions, and sub-vocal noises to communicate on a daily basis, as most Turians did, and used words only on occasion. She could see how unsettling this was to him. She began sobbing again, apologizing to her son. Tarren looked at her with confusion again, beginning to tear at her clothes. She clenched her body with the next contraction but refused to let out her pain. Tarren squealed at her again, tearing harder and beginning to use all of his little body to pull again. She released his claws again and held him to her, kissing his forehead and petting his plumage. He purred, grabbing her hair to chew on, comforted by his mother’s embrace. After a moment, he struggled in her arms, and began to pull on her again.

 

She got on all fours and dragged herself across the floor. She made it halfway through the living room, to Tarren’s delight, until the pain was too much. He shrieked at her, to no response. She lie on her side, feeling the baby pushing down, dread filling her again. She screamed. _No, this can’t happen, not here in front of Tarren._ She refused to push; she refused to let this progress any further.

 

Garrus pulled into the condo’s driveway, gathering the bags in his arms. It had been a good day, and a good night was ahead. He and Jane had figured everything out, and they had both put everything serious to the back of their minds. Tonight Liara was coming over for dinner and to visit with the family. He went over the recipe Jane had chosen from her Earthen collection, a calamari recipe, which was similar to a Yako eel found on Palaven. But the Earthen, tentacle creature he purchased was fleshy and soft, nothing like the plated, 20ft long Yako. After just one step out of the vehicle, he heard Tarren’s shriek of distress, much louder than usual.  
He dropped everything and took off running toward the door.

 

 

> He stood in shock at the sight before him; his wife laying in blood, his son tearing at her clothing while the varren was nudging at her side. He kneeled by her, while she screamed,
> 
>  
> 
> “Get him out! Get him away, he can’t— He can’t see—He can’t...”
> 
>   
>  Her words faded while she tried to fight her body. He grabbed Tarren, who was relieved at his father’s presence, and set him in the crib. Garrus turned off his translator and spoke to him in their native language,
> 
>  
> 
> “You did good son, I’m proud of you for protecting Mommy. You know she’s hurt, and I’m going to take care of her, so stay right here.”
> 
>  
> 
> He purred, full of pride in his Dad’s words, but chirped in protest when he began to leave the room without him. Garrus turned, letting a stern, short, “No.” snap at him. Tarren continued to whine and chirp behind the closed door.
> 
>  

Garrus returned to Jane, who was weakening in her fight. Ghost retreated when Garrus came near, and scattered out of the way while Garrus picked her up and laid her on their bed. He stripped the bloody pants from her and unhooked her vest to help her breathe easier.

To be honest, he had almost no idea what to do. Tarren’s pregnancy was uneventful, and the hospital staff took care of the birth. This was completely unexplored territory, and he didn’t even know how the genetics of humans and batarians worked. He called in an emergency to the hospital, but Shepard doubted there would be enough time.

 

 

> “No matter what happens… Know that I love you. I always will. And Tarren… My little bab-- “
> 
>   
>  She almost screamed.
> 
>   
>  “There’s no time. I can’t handle it anymore, I can’t stop it!”
> 
> “Um, okay, just—“He saw the fear and desperation in her eyes. He thought back to his own mother’s death, during his younger sister’s birth. He couldn’t allow this to happen again.
> 
> “No! You don’t do anything! You fight it…” He couldn’t continue with the desperation pooling in her eyes. It settled on him that there was nothing he could do to make this stop, so there was no point in trying to force her to fight a losing battle.
> 
>   
>  He heaved a sigh.
> 
>   
>  “Okay, love. Let’s do it. Its time.”

 

She pushed as much as her remaining strength would let her, which forced a cry of pain as her insides tore from the large baby. After another push, the batarian child was in Garrus’ arms, blue, with cord wrapped around her neck. No cry, a slight breath, then stillness. The air was still, silent, as death surrounded them.

Shepard lay still, eyes closed, heaving deep breaths while her biotics attempted to heal the damage, while still bleeding profusely. She looked up to her husband, cradling the baby, then noticing the quiet.

Garrus was a statue; his expression would seem blank to most other races as he unwrapped the cord. His mandibles were flared, his eyes studying the baby girl. He held her close to his chest, then picking up a sheet to clean the blood from her body. After an eternity, he looked to Shepard, who was watching. He handed her the baby, which she laid on her chest.

 

Dread once again filled her; she didn’t want to keep this child as her own, but felt immense sorrow to see her in death. She could not cry, her eyes refused to tear up, and a lump continued to reside in her throat. All four eyes were shut tight, mouth slightly open. Peacefully sleeping.

 

Garrus turned sharply and Shepard jerked her gaze to the door.

 

Tarren had seen everything, and began screeching at the medical team entering the home. Tarren hissed as a Salarian attempted to step over him, clawing at his thin flesh as he passed. Garrus pulled a sheet over his wife to protect her modesty, and scooped Tarren up and scolded him. Tarren violently fought back, clawing at Garrus’ plates, ripping his clothing, but not even near puncturing the skin. Tarren hissed and screamed while his father set him back in the nursery, swearing under his breath while returning to his wife, ignoring his son’s protest. He returned in time to walk along the stretcher as they wheeled her out, baby resting on her chest, both of them covered with a clean white sheet for warmth. He smoothed her hair back as she smiled up at him.

 

 

> “I love you, too.” He answered her earlier statement. “Always.”
> 
> “I know.” She grabbed his hand.
> 
> “Let me calm Tarren down, find someone to watch him, and I’ll be right down.”
> 
> “Stay. I’ll call you when I can.”  
>  He began to protest, but was silenced by the look she shot him, understanding.
> 
> “Stay with Tarren. He needs you.”  
>  Garrus nodded, as they loaded her into the ambulance, catching her glance down at the babe on her chest before they slammed the doors shut.
> 
>  

He returned to the home, noticing that once again, Tarren had escaped his crib. Tarren snarled and spat, angry with his father. He removed his translator from around his neck once again, and spoke to Tarren, crouching to his level.

 

> “I told you to stay. You didn’t stay.”
> 
>  

Tarren answered with more snarls and a garble of Turian gibberish, forming the words, “No,” “Mommy,” and “Help”. Garrus sighed, knowing all too well the protectiveness male Turians had over their families. He looked at his son, clacking his mandibles and staring straight into his eyes. On adult Turians, this usually caused them to back down, but not little Tarren. He stood, leaning forward, bearing his teeth, and holding his little hands in tiny fists. Garrus held him then lay on the sofa with Tarren sitting on his chest. Tarren stared him down.

 

Snarling, Tarren let out a string of angry gibberish, bearing his talons into Garrus’ chest. Garrus had had enough; he pulled the tiny pricks out of his chest, holding Tarren’s arms tightly, which caused a shriek of frustration from his son, and he let a loud, deep growl emanate from his chest.

 

> “Child! Stop, now. This is enough. I know you’re upset. I know you want your mother. I know you hate me for letting them take her, but you know nothing. You don’t understand what had just happened to Mommy, and I can’t help her! We will see her when she’s healed enough and ready to come home. Right now, stop your foolishness.”
> 
>  
> 
> Tarren looked at him, mandibles and nostrils flared. He was taking in deep, heavy breaths. He simply spoke,  
>  “Baby gone, Daddy.”
> 
>  

He fought his arms free and slid off Garrus’ chest plate and retreated around the couch to the kitchen. Garrus sat in shock. Tarren did know. He completely understood what had just occurred. He was completely taken aback. How could such a young being understand such an unusual concept? Or was it really that strange of a concept to understand? Children often understood death, but… even for his fast development,,which was much faster than human children, yet very similar to Asari children, how could he understand?

 

Tarren returned to Garrus, who was staring up to the ceiling in shock, and dropped Jane’s Omni-tool to the floor.

 

> “Mommy need.”
> 
>  

Another shock to Garrus. Obviously, she had been attempting to reach it to call for help, due to his own absence. If he had just been there—No. This was not the time to fall into guilt, he had to stay strong for Tarren. The little Turian quipped at him, clacking his mandibles loudly, proving to his father he was far more intelligent than his parent’s had thought.

 

> “I’m… sorry, Tarren.”
> 
>  

Tarren looked at him with sad eyes, holding his hands out, requesting to be picked up. Garrus scooped him up and laid him on his chest. Tarren purred, but not from love this time; this was the closest a Turian could come to a sob. Garrus could not hold his in any longer, and joined him, shutting his eyes tight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I tried to space out my writing more; is this better? Or is it awkward? I don't know. :P


	4. A Dull Evening

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dinner plans were made, and are gone through with. A reaction from Liara to the tragedy, and father-son, husband-wife, bestfriends/comrade feels.

Garrus called the hospital probably 27 times by now, demanding an update on Shepard. It was always the same answer: “Sir, she’s just out of surgery and in the recovery bay. We’ll have her call as soon as she’s awake and feeling up to it.”

He gave them the same response, “I’ll be waiting.”

Liara had come over as planned later that evening, and decided to stay a while, even with Garrus’ suggestion to leave. After she convinced him to let her in, she was shocked at the state of the floor, still covered in blood.

> “Yeah, I don’t think I’ll be much of a good dinner host tonight.” He chuckled, attempting a lame joke.
> 
> Liara didn’t laugh. She demanded to know what had happened; where Jane was. He told her the truth; she was one of the only ones who knew about the pregnancy. After she heard the tragedy, she sat down on the floor, face in her hands.
> 
> “It’s all my fault! I was the reason she even came to Omega. If I had just—“
> 
> Garrus stopped her there, remembering his own self-hatred, as well as his blaming of Liara.
> 
> “How could it be your fault? The only way it could have been your fault is if what you told us wasn’t true.”
> 
> She sniffled, wiping her eyes on her long sleeves. “Well of course it’s true. I never called Jane, it was someone else, whoever it was that attacked her.”

That unknown was still out there. Her attackers were dead, but no hits over C-Sec or any other criminal database had been found. Tali checked Shep’s terminal and confirmed that it indeed had been hacked from an outside source. Liara burried her face into her arm as she leaned into him for a few moments, once again, emotionally devastated.

After serving Liara a drink, he promised his return in a few moments; he was going to check on Tarren. He entered the nursery, which was low-lit so Tarren could sleep, but Garrus made his way to the rocking chair located in the corner. He dragged the chair close to the crib and watched the infant sleep. He lay on his belly, soft breaths clacking his mandibles every so often. He clawed softly at the mattress, and cooed as if he were having an adventurous dream, which was most likely the case.

Garrus just sat there, watching him sleep. So grateful to have created this life with the one person he loved most in the world. This baby genius lying in front of him had all the potential in the world. Maybe, Tarren would be a general on Palaven, or an Admiral. Primarch? It was possible. His little guy could do anything he wanted to in life.

He remembered the little girl he held in his arms. So sweet; innocent. She did nothing to deserve her death; she deserved life no less than Tarren, or himself for that matter. He thought about the tragedy she would have grown up in; a family of completely different species than her, learning why she looked so different, felt so ugly, why she doesn’t have a family to talk to. Later on in her late teenage years or early adulthood, they would have had to tell her the REAL reasons. A childhood of lies, public discrimination against her; that would drive a person mad.

She didn’t deserve that either.

 

But she deserved a chance. Everyone should have a chance at life. Whether it is destined to be easy or hard, good or bad. That little baby should have come out crying, wiggling, and thriving, just as Tarren had. But he held her as she took her first and only breath. Her skin looked as if it were yellow-tinted, the way her father’s was; with lighter facial skin and dark ridges. Her eyes never opened to see him; she never saw the world. The Spirits were the first things she ever saw.

 

He had no part in this creation of life, but he felt as if that were his blood daughter. The woman at his side had carried this being for months, against her will, but caring for her and providing like any mother would. He felt as though he was going to cry again, as he compared kissing and rubbing her belly with Tarren inside, while avoiding speaking of and looking at her belly with the little girl inside. He whimpered, and then took a deep breath to steady himself.

 

Thoughts and memories seeped back into his mind, guilt plaguing him. He should have shown this baby more love. More empathy, sympathy, damn it, more everything. She didn’t ask to be created; he and Jane were chosen to bring her into this world for her to do whatever she had to do. They failed. And they did nothing in the whole run of it to show her she was loved. His heart simply ached. He accidently let out a whimper; his emotional being imploding within. Tarren stirred in his sleep, after recognizing it was Garrus sitting in front of him, he called out sleepily, slowly reaching a hand toward him. Garrus looked up, and stood to take him out of the crib. He wrapped a nursing blanket around him to keep warm, and snuggled his limp little body close to his chest.

 

He dimmed the lights in the rest of the house as he carried Tarren to the living room where Liara sat. Tarren’s soft little breaths blew across his neck, and his hands curled up and relaxed, softly clawing his skin. Liara smiled as he walked out with the child, and was almost as grateful as Garrus for Tarren’s existence. Garrus let a hum rumble from his chest, and let it continue while he spoke.

> “I’m glad you stayed with him.” Liara took another drink.
> 
> “I am too. I’m glad he’s got me to cling to while he processes all this. I wish we could have gone with Jane… and the baby.” He ran his hand over the child’s plumage, hearing him coo in return.
> 
> “I know.” Liara looked back at the blood on the carpet leading from the bathroom. “Would you like me to…clean a little?” She asked awkwardly, not knowing how to act in this strange situation.
> 
> “What—why would you want to do that? You came here for dinner, Liara; you don’t get to do work around my house because circumstances changed.”
> 
> Liara giggled; she always did have a way of finding something to do. “No, Garrus. I wouldn’t mind doing it so Shepard isn’t reminded as soon as she comes home.”

 

He thought for a second, agreeing with her, and knowing that once he got the okay, he was going straight to the hospital with Tarren. “You make a good point. But I don’t want to watch you work while I sit here. So why don’t we just make dinner? That would be something to do.”

 

Liara agreed. Once they reached the kitchen, Liara took Tarren in her arms and allowed Garrus to prepare the meal. She hadn’t had much contact with this young child; she attended the baby shower, visited in the hospital after he was born, and a few times after he was born she had met with Shepard and Garrus for lunch and such, but never had held the child longer than a few minutes.

 

His skin felt like leather to her, but soft, worn leather. She stroked his plumage, which was softer than the rest of his body. She cradled him in her arms, looking down on his alien features. His eyes were small, protected in their sockets by his face plates. His nose was short, with no nostrils visible at the angle he was at. His mouth and mandibles were small and short, clacking against his mouth plate as he sighed in his sleep. She smiled; he was adorable, especially for being of a different species.

 

Garrus grabbed a pack of noodles from a cabinet and dumped them into a pot of boiling water. He took another pot to pour red, sweet and savory sauce into, and let it warm on the stove. When the noodles were done, he dumped them together and made a bowl for Liara. He poured nutrient paste into a bowl for himself, still the only dextrose food they had at the moment.

> “Really?” She patted Tarren’s back lightly as he began to stir.
> 
> “Well, if there were anything else I wouldn’t cook it anyways.” He grinned at her then sat across from her at the table.
> 
> “Well… thank you, I hope I’m not a burden.”
> 
> “Of course not.” A half lie; he wanted to be alone with Tarren, but at the same time, the company was kind of nice.

Garrus pretended to eat, again making land formations in the paste. Liara shifted uncomfortably, the silence and awkwardness creeping in. She ate about half her plate and left the rest. She gave her left-overs to Ghost, who sulked over from the corner. Garrus set his bowl next to her plate, and took Tarren from Liara's arms.

> “Well, if you don’t need any help with anything right now, I’ll be going.” She stood in the doorway with her.
> 
> “Okay. I’m sorry about, you know, a dull evening.”
> 
> “Garrus. I’m sorry.” She held his face in her hand, looking deeply into his sorrowful eyes. She turned and let the door shut behind her. After driving out of view, she allowed the tears to roll down her face.

 

Garrus returned to the dim living room with his son in his arms. He went to the window and once again looked up at the stars. He tried to make out a few, but the city lights blinded the sky. He turned to the couch and sat looking at his son, who was awake now. Tarren looked up at Garrus for a long time.

> He called out,
> 
> “Dad.”  
>  Garrus smiled.  
>  “Son.”

  
Tarren purred in contentedness at Garrus stroking his head. He began to sing to him,

> The sea is green  
>  The fish are golden  
>  The armaka stands still  
>  The trees chatter  
>  In between shields  
>  The children play  
>  Their fathers fight  
>  To protect their mothers  
>  The land and children  
>  To keep the sea green  
>  And fish golden

In Turian language, it flowed like a river in elegant poetry; the emphasis and tone could not be replicated in any dialect. A work of art, created to inspire young warriors. Once Jane had heard him secretly singing to Tarren in the nursery, and tried to make out the words. He thought back to a few weeks ago, listening to her sing in the shower. She had caught a few awkwardly translated words, and made up the rest, making absolutely no sense in her English language. She knew it was a lullaby, and she wasn’t singing to Tarren…  
A bittersweet epiphany. He sat Tarren on the sofa next to him as his Omni-tool flashed. He answered: a call from Shep.

He saw her face, sweet and tear stained.

> “Hey.”
> 
> “Hey.” She tried to smile. “How’s Tarren?”
> 
> “He’s fine. Was playing with Ghost earlier.” He remembered the conversation he had with his son earlier.
> 
> “Good. I’m glad he’s okay.” She looked down at something, then back up to Garrus.
> 
> “How are you doing? Are you okay?”
> 
> “I’m alright. Healing quick already. Should be okay for home tomorrow morning they said.”
> 
> “So… I know this should wait, but…” He glanced around for a second.
> 
> “Yes, it should. I don’t want to go over it more than I have to.” She almost broke into a whimper.
> 
> “Okay, that’s fine, I… I’m just worried, you know?”
> 
> “I’m okay.” She smiled at him. They took a moment to study each other. He smiled at her. Tarren screeched out, crawling across Garrus’ lap to see his mother up close. Jane laughed as Garrus complied.
> 
> “Mommy!” He squealed in delight at her face.
> 
> “Hey baby! How’s my Tarren?” He quipped, flaring and clacking his mandibles while clapping his hands. “I’ll see you tomorrow, how bout it babe?” He squealed, understanding. He reached out to touch, but just disrupted the holo. His parents laughed at their son’s confusion. He chirped at her picture.
> 
> “Okay, Jane, we’ll let you go. Get some rest, I’ll be there when the suns up.” He smiled, and Jane blew kissed to them both before ending the call.

 

He looked at Tarren, heartbroken. He hugged him tight, causing a little squeak, then stood him on the floor in front of him. Tarren play growled, which Garrus returned. Tarren took off in a sprint, ready for a game of hide-and –seek.


	5. Visitation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Feels. Surprise. More feels.

Tarren reached up to hold onto his father’s spur, too short to reach his hand. He looked curiously at the patients and visitors, staying silent as he observed. Garrus quickly made his way to reception, while keeping his son close. He was directed to wing D84, where he arrived shortly after speaking with the receptionist.

 

He entered the door, which was guarded by single N7 officer. He saluted Garrus, knowing full well who he was, if by nothing else, the scars on the right side of his face. He entered the room, allowing Tarren to lead, squealing while leaping onto his mother’s belly, nuzzling her neck and face. He quipped while she embraced him tightly. He straddled her chest as she lied propped up on the bed. He purred and chirped, then rested his forehead against hers, something he had watched his father do a thousand times.

 

She held him close, and let a few tears stream down her cheek. Garrus pulled a chair up next to them, and basked in the view of his family, alive, safe, and together. Tarren finally pulled his head up and decided to inspect her. He slid to the side of the bed, and noticed her stomach, bloated, but much flatter than it had been in the recent months. He cooed questioningly. Jane looked at him, attempting to hold herself together. Tarren looked at his father, noticing the body language he subtly showed.

 

Tarren watched the baby being born. He watched the bloody horror and knew she was not possibly alive. The energy of the room sank even lower during the birth, and he watched the medical team carry them both away that night. He rubbed his mother’s stomach, which had bandages covering her surgical wounds.

 

> “Baby gone.” Tarren looked at her belly, still rubbing it lovingly.
> 
>  
> 
> Garrus almost began to cry again, as Jane looked up at him in confusion.
> 
>  
> 
> “He knows…”
> 
>  
> 
> She looked from her husband to son, then back to Garrus. “What did he say?” She asked after a long pause.
> 
>  
> 
> Garrus sighed, attempting to swallow the lump in his throat and keep himself calm enough to speak two words. “Baby gone.”

 

Jane looked at him in disbelief, then back to Tarren, who met her gaze. She reached her arms out to him, to which he scurried into her embrace and burried his face into her bosom. Tarren began to cry again, the purring quiet and subtle. Jane held him tight, and let herself whimper in sorrow. Garrus kept himself steady, but held Jane’s arm with one hand, and rested the other on his son’s back.

 

Jane’s mind was coming back to the state of panic she had been until she had been sedated for surgery. She was distraught over how her son had been so damaged, so hurt by witnessing the events of the last night. Tarren’s intelligence started to sink in as well, and she began to contemplate the last few months of his development. Escapes from the crib were constant, as well as feeding himself and running about, while being so young. His language was superior to anything they had expected, especially with hearing two tongues in the home. He was only a year old, and smarter than any human child she had met, including those attending school.

 

Tarren ceased his sobs, and composed himself. He sat up, scooched off the bed onto Garrus’ lap, then continued downward to the floor. He looked up at all the equipment, and found interest in a spinning stool in the corner. Garrus turned his attention to Jane, who was wiping her tears away on her hospital gown. He had never seen her like this; sobbing, yes; distraught, yes. Decimated on every level simultaneously, never. He held her soft hand in his, bringing it to his mouth to kiss. She held his face in her hand, and smiled. He leaned in and kissed her soft, salty, tear stained lips, and brushed her bangs from her face.

 

“What did they say about recovery?” Jane sighed. “I’m a biotic. I’ll mostly heal on my own. They said this afternoon I should be fine to go.

 

“Good. I—we… would feel better with you home.” Garrus let out a crooked grin.

 

She smiled back, but the sadness in her face remained. “Me too. I don’t like it here.” Her mind suddenly went back to the state of the home when she left, and hoped it wouldn’t be that way when she got back. As much as she wanted Garrus to recover as well, the sight of the blood might send her right back into a hospital bed. She decided to skip the awkwardness of asking, and simply hope something got done.

 

> “Do… you feel like talking?”
> 
>  
> 
> She stared off blankly. “I—Not yet.”
> 
>  
> 
> He rubbed her hand, “Of course.” He kissed her knuckles again, drawing her gaze back to him.
> 
>  
> 
> “So, Liara came for dinner last night.”
> 
>  
> 
> She continued staring, almost embarrassed from their friend witnessing the house in the state she left it in.
> 
>  
> 
> “I couldn’t turn her away. So I told her what happened. She even offered to help clean, for Spirit’s sake.” He let out a mild chuckle.
> 
>  
> 
> She shut her eyes and smiled. “Good thing it wasn’t Tali, she would have fought you to do it.”
> 
>  
> 
> Garrus flared his mandibles at the humorous thought. He watched her face relax and her breathing start to slow. She likely hadn’t slept all night.
> 
>  
> 
> “They lost me on the table during surgery.”

 

All his muscles tightened, his mandibles clacking hard against his mouth piece. He sat up straight and stared at her, shocked at the bombshell she decided to drop. She tightened her grip on his hand.

> “You’re kidding, right?”

 

She opened her eyes and looked into the deep, even more concerned blues prodding her.

 

> “Something you need to know, but there’s no reason to be worried anymore.”
> 
>  
> 
> “Are you serious? The only part of that statement that makes any sense is the ‘I need to know’ part.” Tarren jerked his head in their direction, noticing the growl coming from Garrus’ chest.

 

> “Really, Garrus? Would you please calm—“
> 
>  
> 
> “What, calm down? ‘I just died, AGAIN, but now I’m fine, don’t worry darling.’ No, really, Jane. I think I’m allowed to freak out a little bit at hearing my wife has died, for the second time, but once again, is here to act all big and tough to the one that loves her the most in the world.” He was standing now, Jane’s hand still gripping his. Tarren was digging his claws into the stool’s faux-leather seat covering.
> 
> “Don’t get me wrong, I’m overwhelming grateful that you are here and alive, but you can’t expect me to be fine with your second death! I come home from the store, and you’re dying. We gave up combat. Battle. EVERYTHING, because I didn’t want to lose you, or you lose me. We have a son, a family. And I CANT do this on my own, Jane. I can’t. I need you. Okay? I fucking love you.”

 

She began to feel anger welling up in her chest. She was exhausted, but adrenaline was flooding her body. She wanted to stand face to face to him, but knew her body wouldn’t allow it yet.

 

> “And why exactly was I not aware of this? I called a thousand times wanting an update on you, and it just HAPPENED to slip everyone’s mind that, oh, my wife died. Not a big deal at all, huh?”
> 
>  
> 
> “Are you fucking serious, Garrus?” She threw his hand down in disgust. “You think you can just—“

 

Tarren let out a scream, and started biting and clawing at Garrus’ leg, almost tearing the skin. As he swore and began to unlatch the child from his leg, Tarren scrambled up the bed to Jane and began tearing at her shirt, screeching in her face. Her eyes rolled back in her head as alarms and machines started to blare. An entire medical team rushed into the room and Garrus tore Tarren from his mother, once again. Her body began seizing and foam started to form at her lips. Tarren ripped at Garrus’ arm, screeching and squealing, begging to get to his mother and tear apart the people surrounding her. Garrus held him tight, turning his son's head away, but stared in complete disbelief.

 

The medical team worked fast and calm, and out of the blur of faces he caught Dr. Chakwas. _Oh good, at least we’ve got her._ He was reassured for a brief second, then once realized the urgency of the situation. He had forgot how fragile Jane was; in his outflow of emotion, he hadn’t realized how terrifying and ridiculous he was being. He must have simply overwhelmed her.

 

This time he let the guilt flood him and simply collapsed inside. He shut everything out. He blankly looked at Tarren who was fighting him tooth and nail, literally. Garrus let the world fade to black and white and sounds muffled as he slid to the floor. A nurse noticed him and ran over to him slumped against the wall, holding his son to his chest. The Asari took him by the arm and coaxed him to leave. Tarren glanced up to her, then awaited to act on his father’s reaction. She attempted to lift him by the arm, continuing to ask him to leave the room with her. Garrus stared up at her, without any response. She tugged again.

 

> “No. I’ve been to the end of the world with this woman, I am staying.”
> 
>  
> 
> “Sir, please, I don’t want you to stay here if things get worse.”
> 
>  
> 
> “Ma’am, I’ve seen the insides of a Krogan, this isn’t going to bother me. Please, let us stay.”
> 
>  
> 
> “Sir, your son.”

 

His defeated state dropped even lower. His disappointment in himself as a being, father, and husband, was even further exacerbated from her statement. Like Tarren hadn’t seen enough already. He slowly stood and left the room. The nurse shut the door behind him and he tried to listen through the walls.

 

Tarren screamed, then turned to face Garrus, glaring. He began clawing at his face, screeching. The N-7 guard stood alert, but not sure how to handle the situation beginning to unfold. Garrus threw off his translator, letting it shatter onto the ground. He held Tarren a safe distance from his face, and began growling from deep in his chest. He screamed in their native tongue,

> “Son, stop! I. Am. Sorry.”

 

Tarren grew silent, then continued with a slur of desperate, angry, language. Garrus answered with a purr in his chest, attempting to calm him. Tarren looked at him tiredly, while nervously glancing to the door behind them. A few minutes later the doctors left the room, the doctor coming to Garrus as he stood.

 

> “She’s stable now. I’m pushing back her check-out for more rest and observation.”

 

> Garrus nodded, “Would you mind, uh, going over everything with me? We just got here, and no one has been able to talk to us yet.” The doctor looked confused, and realizing his translator lay shattered on the tile next to him, he pulled out his omni-tool’s translating function and repeated himself.

 

The Salarian, who was quite calm for his race, led them to a private consulting room down the hall. The walls were stainless steel, with a metal table in the center of the room surrounded by a few white chairs. Garrus held his nervous, yet extremely observant son in his lap as he sat across from the doctor. The Salarian clasped his hands in his lap and set his data pad on the table.

>  
> 
> “As you know, she was taken from the home via ambulance with the child.” He shifted uneasily. “We performed surgery, suturing her cuts and stopped the blood. There is an immense amount of scar tissue forming in her uterus now as she heals, so conceiving again may be difficult or impossible; at this point it is impossible to say.”

 

Garrus looked down at Tarren, smoothing his plumage back. He tried to keep his worries inside, which was good enough for keeping the Salarian in the dark, but knew his son could see the dread and sorrow on his face. Garrus returned his gaze to the doctor, who cleared his throat.

 

> “While in surgery, she went into cardiac arrest, but we were able to restart the heart and keep her stable.”

 

Garrus sighed, running a hand over his own crest, but still listening to the doctor.

>  
> 
> “She was still feeling the sedatives when you arrived, which could have contributed to the seizure, as well as stress from the emotional and physical trauma she has endured. We now have her stable, but unconscious. I was really surprised she had woken up so soon after coming out of surgery, but, she is Commander Shepard.” He tried a smile at him.

 

Garrus looked down to the floor, Tarren clinging to his chest. The doctor allowed a moment of silence. He cleared his throat again, quietly. The doctor began speaking again,

>  
> 
> “Her biotics are exquisitely integrated with her organics, so her healing period will be much shorter than if she were completely organic.”

 

He hated that. A ‘complete organic.’ Somehow implying that she was a machine; less human. She was Shepard, their Shepard, his Shepard. She was the same as she was the day she died… The first time. He looked back up to the doctor.

 

> “The baby?”
> 
>  
> 
> The Salarian almost trembled; he shifted awkwardly. “The—Batarian?
> 
>  
> 
> “Yes, the baby girl.” Garrus almost growled.
> 
>  
> 
> “She, um—do you—“
> 
>  
> 
> “Yes, I know she’s dead. I know she’s not mine.” He perked his brows at the Salarian, almost inviting a challenge. Tarren noticed the flow of anger and contempt for the soft, squishy, weak Salarian in front of his father. He purred, disapproving of any more violence. Garrus noticed, and allowed his temper to cool.
> 
>  
> 
> “To see it—her, I mean, that’s what you’re asking, correct?” The doctor stood.
> 
>  
> 
> “Correct.”

 

The Salarian shakily led the down the hall to an elevator, and showed the, to the morgue in the basement. The doctor slid his identification card at several checkpoints, and led the way to the compartment holding the girl.

 

> “Are you sure this is how you would like to see her?” Garrus nodded. “Would you like me to take your son elsewhere?”
> 
>  
> 
> “No.” Garrus almost whispered. The doctor looked at his skeptically, then opened the cryo compartment containing the girl. “I will be outside.”

 

 

 

As the Salarian left the two alone together, the atmosphere sank. Tarren squealed out of joy, then became silent as he realized what he was seeing. Garrus studied intensly over her features; her never-opened eyes, tiny mouth, yellow skin. Her hands open, facing up. He rested his hands on the glass, his heart shattering slowly. He could hear each piece fall like glass; his world became dark and all he could see was his daughter. He wished with every fiber of his being that he could unlock the container, hold her to him and warm her up until she started to breathe; her heart started to beat. His mind started to catch up and he realized the intense sorrow that he would carry forever; how impossible his wish was, that there was not even a glimmer of hope. Too little, too late.

 

Tarren pressed his hand against his father’s, looking down at the baby. Tarren began to mumble gibberish to her, clicking his mandibles and purring. Garrus broke down inside. He wanted to stay there forever, but was too broken to stay. He took out him omni-tool and snapped a picture of Tarren and the baby.

>  
> 
> “Goodbye, love.” Tarren mimicked him; giving his farewells also.

 

Garrus briskly walked past the doctor, taking the elevator back to the main floor. As he was walking down the hall, he heard his name called from the medical station nearby. Chakwas was walking toward him. He met her, and with a trembling voice, spoke, “Please, take him. I—I’ll be back, I promise.” Without his translator, Chakwas stood in confusion, accepting the child clinging to her coat as Garrus handed him over and stormed out of the hospital.

 

 

He made a bee-line for the car, and shut himself inside. He sobbed a Turain sob, laying his face in his hands. He allowed every emotion to flood him; terror, dread, grief, joy, hatred, frustration, guilt, relief, agony. He melted into the seat and allowed himself to crumble. After a few moments, he composed himself, and waited until the shaking had ceased in his knees and shoulders. He slowly returned to the hospital.


	6. Estranged

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A few weeks later, life is much different than before the baby... Grudges, alcohol, and a little hint at PTSD... (Like Shepard wouldn't have that already...)

 

Her heart raced for a moment. Her breathing came in quick, shallow pants. Tarren was sleeping in his crib, Ghost strolled through the living room, making his rounds of the house. Garrus was at work at the small Alliance base on the outskirts of the city. She calmed herself and rested back on the arm of the couch. She stared at the urn that sat on the coffee table. Silver, shining, and a little over a foot tall, she focused her sight on this object and allowed the haunting memories to flow back through her mind’s eye.

 

The memories of her child’s death flowed into memories of battle; bloodshed, screaming, strategic battle plans. Her ears rang with the terrors of battle, and kept her from rest, let alone sleep. Her mind raced until she thought she could see no more until the opening door shocked her back to the real world.

 

Garrus set his data pad on the coffee table and kissed Jane on the forehead. He went to the kitchen without a word and poured a glass of Serrice Ice Brandy. He leaned against the counter as he took the entire shot. He poured another.

 

Jane rose slowly and walked to the kitchen doorway. She crossed her arms and watched him drink. He looked straight ahead, as if he barely noticed her. She stood for a few moments, waiting for at least a greeting, but received nothing. She poured herself a glass and sat on the counter in front of him. He averted his eyes away from her.

 

> “Garrus, look at me.” She said with a quiet intensity.
> 
> He was silent.
> 
> “Am I not worth of your words, Garrus?”
> 
>  
> 
> He shot his eyes at her. “Am I not worthy for your presence? You haven’t slept with me in days.”
> 
> “I haven’t slept at all in days.” She shot back. Her dark eye rings confirmed.
> 
>  
> 
> “So you can’t lay with me? You can’t talk to me while we both stay up?” He took another drink.
> 
>  
> 
> “What’s the issue? Why are you being like this? You’ve been cold and rude for weeks.”
> 
>  
> 
> “So have you! It’s like I don’t even know who you are!” He slammed the glass on the counter as he said his last word.
> 
>  
> 
> “You’re infuriating! Impossible! I need you right now!” She slid off the counter to her feet, dropping several inches under his height.
> 
> “Am I? Or are you? I’m sorry that I’m a failure, I’m sorry I’m not and never have been good enough!” He started to raise his voice.
> 
>  
> 
> “Are you serious? When have I ever said anything along those lines. Or shown you in any way that’s how I feel?”
> 
>  
> 
> “Every day! You scream it with every word you don’t say and every move you make!”
> 
>  
> 
> She let out a rough, exasperated breath. “I just—I just want to hit you! Just stop it!”
> 
>  
> 
> “Take a swing.” She balled her fist and hooked her arm, but stopped as she heard Tarren scream from the other room. She froze mid-swing as she heard the baby cry. Garrus laxed his tense shoulders and she let her arm down. They locked eyes, both running on fumes, hateful, and disgusted with one another.

 

Shepard walked briskly to his nursery, where he went silent upon seeing her face. She picked him up, letting him burrow into the crook of her neck. She held him tightly as he snuggled closer, creaking out a coo. He dug his talons into her thick combat vest, which she wore for just this reason. Garrus slowly followed her to the room, watching the child silently latching onto his mother. He leaned with crossed arms in the doorway. She stared at him with a furious intensity. She turned away and sat with Tarren in the rocking chair. She cooed back to him and tried to pry him off her clothing.

 

Garrus returned to the kitchen for another drink. He sighed, looking at the ceiling. How could life have turned this bad? He loved Jane so dearly, and this is what had become of their relationship. Just weeks ago they had lost their daughter, and now they were tearing each other to bits.

 

A few minutes later Shepard returned, pure fury lining her face. He faced her, arms down, ready to defend against the blows she was surely going to throw at him. She got close to his face, and whispered,

> “Look at what you’ve done to our baby.”
> 
>  
> 
> “Me?” He scoffed at her. “Are you fucking joking? We start fighting, again, and it’s automatically my fault our child has anxiety? Even after all the sheer trauma he’s been exposed to?”
> 
>  
> 
> “We wouldn’t be fighting if you’d fucking talk to me!” She pushed him.

 

He looked at her with burning eyes. He grabbed his keys and walked out the door. She slammed her fists against the counter. She took another drink and a few moments to collect herself. She returned to Tarren’s nursery.

 

He sat silently in the dark, a large red ball in his hands. He threw it against the wall and let it roll back. He repeated this process several times, until Shepard could bear it no longer. She scooped him up in her arms and kissed him. He cooed, burying into her chest.

 

Later that night, after Shep had fed Tarren and herself, she lay cuddling her son in her bed. He was not active, he laid quietly for the most part, chewing on his hands. She sang songs to him that he sang along with, but did not squeal or chirp. She rubbed his crest and plumage as she held him to her chest, causing him to fall into a deep sleep.

 

As Jane set him in the crib, her omni-tool sang in the kitchen. A call from Garrus, she hoped, at least until the angry memories came flooding back. She answered: Liara. The text read:

 

> “Hey, Jane. What are you and the family doing tonight? I noticed you seemed tense when I saw you at the meeting the other day. Need a babysitter for a night?”

 

You know what? She did. She needed a night out, by herself. Tarren was sound asleep, and she would be back before long. She accepted the offer, excited to get out of the house.

 

* * *

 

Garrus sat at the bar, music blasting behind him and a crowd of Turians surrounding his personal space. He asked for another drink; his vision was getting fuzzy, and he knew he should stop, but he wanted to really get away. He needed the emptiness to be filled, the pain to numb for a while. He needed his mind off of everything before he went completely insane.

 

A bronze Turian woman sat herself beside him at the counter. She nodded for a drink. She threw it back, shutting her eyes. He couldn’t help but notice her aesthetically pleasing facial plates, the glow of her amber skin, and supportive waist… Another drink.

 

What was he doing? _Stop, Vakarian…_ his eyes wandered down her waist to her thighs, thin but lusciously curved. She looked him in the eyes, which he embarrassedly met. He apologized quickly, and faced ahead, looking at the shelves of liquor. She turned toward him, scanning him with her eyes as he had done to her. He slowly realized what she was doing and turned toward her.

 

> “Hi, I’m Valeria.” She crossed her dainty legs.
> 
>  
> 
> “Garrus.” He nodded politely to her and took another drink.
> 
>  
> 
> “Would you like to dance, Garrus? You look stressed.”
> 
>  
> 
> “No, I’m—I’m fine, I don’t dance, thanks.” He refused his eyes that were begging to stare at the sample of desire in front of him.
> 
>  
> 
> “C’mon. Don’t be like that.”
> 
>  

She took his hand and he allowed her to drag him into the crowd. She started to dance, creating her own song of allure and seductiveness. He watched her as the alcohol blurred his senses and clouded his mind. He felt her skin touch his and her hands caress his body. He felt her skin under his own hands, tracing her curves. The familiarity of his own species soothed and beckoned him farther down into the hole he was digging for himself.

 

He snapped back to reality. He took his hands from her and apologized. She looked shocked, but responded with nothing but a bite to the neck. His instincts surged to life and he clasped his talons into her sides. He groaned as he did everything he could to fight what he was doing, and about to do. She grinded her pelvis against his own as she continued to bite his neck. He slammed her roughly against his own hips and growled in her ear. She let out a moan and quivering breath danced across his cowl.

 

He almost screamed. His mind was telling him to stop, and memories of Jane and Tarren filled his mind’s eyes. His body was numb until that bite, but now he could feel the heat in his chest filling and couldn’t cool his lust. With every pulse of the music, every push of her hips, he lost himself a little more. The memories began to fade and he could only imagine was what the back of her head would look like when he was on top of her.

 

_Domination. Submission._

That’s all he could think.

 

The song came to an end, and she chilled her advances. He stopped, letting go of her body, and began walking as quickly as he could away from her while he still had some of his senses. He exited the club taking deep breathes of the cold air. He looked up and watched as Palaven’s blue moon showered scanty light down on him. He reached his car and locked the doors as he shut himself inside.

 

His instincts told him to go back in there and take the female. His heart told him to go home and reclaim what was already his. He groaned as he started the car.

 

Jane walked into Azure, confident as ever. She scoped out her surrounding, watching an Asari dance on a table for a moment. She sat at the bar, empty seats on either side. She ordered a drink and turned to face the dance floor on her stool. She propped herself up on her elbows against the counter. Freedom was a breath of fresh air. She loved her husband and son, God, she loved them more than anything. But this was nice.

 

A middle-aged man sat next to her. She nodded her greeting, and he checked her out before nodding back. She rolled her eyes and returned to watching the dancers. Another man came to her other side. He ordered a drink as he sat down. She glanced at him, but didn’t bother with any greeting this time, expecting the same from him as the other man.

>  
> 
> “How are you tonight?” He had an accent she couldn’t place.
> 
>  
> 
> “Fine, you?” She kept her cool.
> 
>  
> 
> “Pretty good. Thanks for askin.” He said after looking into her eyes for a long moment. She smiled.
> 
>  
> 
> Shepard attempted to order another drink before the man cut her off, “Can I get that for you?” She smiled at the kind gesture. He paid for it and she took it graciously.
> 
>  
> 
> “Well, what brings you here?” She asked as he took a sip of his own drink. His warm, brown eyes were alive with fire she hadn’t seen in a long time, not since Kaiden…
> 
>  
> 
> “Getting away from it for a while.” He tousled his smooth blonde hair back, where Jane noticed a golden wedding band.

 

> “Fair enough.” She took another drink.
> 
>  
> 
> “You?”
> 
>  
> 
> “I imagine a reason like yours. Maybe a little… more farfetched.”
> 
>  
> 
> He laughed, a bouncy, free-spirited chuckle. “Oh yeah? How so?”
> 
>  
> 
> “Oh, that’s classified.” She smirked.
> 
>  
> 
> “I bet it is. I noticed your shoulder patch. And casual combat-get up. And I imagine you have a holster somewhere on you. Alliance?”
> 
>  
> 
> She was surprised, shocked, for someone to take that much in about her. “Yeah, I guess you could say.” She let out a chuckle.
> 
>  
> 
> He smiled. “Well, if you want to forget all that for a second, I’d be honored to dance with you.”

 

> _Why the hell not?_

She took his hand and skipped out to the dance floor. The music thumped and the crowd hooted. She suddenly got stage fright;

> _What the hell, I cant dance…_

 

He noticed and let out a voracious laugh. He decided to take a lead. His huge, muscular arms reached toward her, and he held her arms up to her waist. She started to move, letting her embarrassment come out in laughs and chuckles. She noticed his broad chest, strong core, shapely legs. She started to let go, letting her body move to the music. He smiled in appeasement, and slowly moved closer to her as the crowd moved.

 

His hands rested on her hips and her hands on his arms. His huge brown eyes were inviting, and refused to be penetrated by her icy blue stare. He let a grin creep up over his mouth, and tossed his short hair back. She was lost in an emotional trance; she couldn’t tell what she was doing, but every part of her screamed _yes._

 

The song ended and the crowd started to circulate. He released his hands and offered to buy her another drink. She accepted. After a short bout of small talk, she decided she was satisfied with the night and was ready to leave.

>  
> 
> “Let me walk you to your car.” A red flag went off with that one.
> 
>  
> 
> “No, thank you though, I’m taking transit.” She smiled.
> 
>  
> 
> “I can walk with you, it’s a lonely walk by yourself.” His grin returned and she couldn’t resist. She followed him to the other side of the club to the other exit. A long hallway separated them from the rest of Illium, and he took advantage of it.

 

He turned, catching her off guard. She stopped short, grabbing him to prevent falling. He grabbed her, holding her in his arms. She looked terrified; Commander Shepard, terrified that a man was holding her in a loving embrace. He took her face in his hand and looked deeply into her eyes. She could feel him touch her soul and shivered. Her skin pricked as he breathed on her neck.

 

Her hands were above her head, one of his hands on her hip and the other holding her hands against the wall. Her back was arched, breath coming in pants, her eyes shut against the sheer arousal. The alcohol was sunken in, and she was foggy, letting this happen. He brushed her dark hair from her face, where she caught the glimpse of the golden band.

 

Tarren came to her mind in a flash. Her little baby was with Liara. She left her child with someone else so she could sort herself out, and this was where she had ended up. She stopped, bringing her hands down. Her husband-- comrade, the one who would fight to the death for her love. What was she doing to him? She let herself whimper. She apologized as she released herself from his touch, and walked alone to the transit stop.

 

 

 

Garrus came running into the house. All the lights were off. He shouted for Shep. No answer. He ran to the nursery, looking for his Tarren.

 

> _Did she leave? Did she leave me for good?_
> 
>  

As this terror sat in his chest, Ghost came running to greet him.

 

> _Think, Vakarian, think dammit._
> 
>  

He looked around the house. Their daughter’s urn was resting on the coffee table, the closets still held her clothes, and Tarren’s nursery was missing nothing but the day bag.

 

He retreated to the sofa, defeated. If it took a thousand years, he would wait right here for her.

 

* * *

 

Jane walked slowly up the street to the condo. She looked up to notice the car in the drive, lights on in the kitchen. She came jogging up the steps to the door. She opened it and yelled his name. He turned on a dime and leaped over the couch to her.

 

She jumped, wrapping her legs around his waist. He purred louder than she had ever heard. She kissed every part of him that she could reach, clutching him tightly. He squeezed her, nuzzling her neck and clicking his mandibles. She almost began sobbing from the pure love and reunion of their marriage. She was so relieved to have made the decision she did, and he even more so. She grabbed his face and kissed him, deeply, with as much passion as she could muster.

 

He simply clutched her, as if she were life incarnate. She looked him dead in the eye, piercing him from within. She nuzzled his neck, then biting down as hard as she could. He seethed in immediate arousal; he completely allowed every instinct to come to life. He nibbled her neck as he carried her to the bedroom, throwing her down on the bed. He tore off her combat casuals, throwing them across the room.

 

He almost turned her over, but stopped. Her face was all he wanted to see. Her entrancing, aery face transfixed him. Her every sound egged him on. He let his sub-vocals hum as he took what was his. He gripped her hips, using her as leverage to go deeper. He hunched down on his elbows, taking her face in his hands, talons entangled in her hair. He purred in her ear as she moaned and let hot breaths blow softly against his neck. She bit him again and he exhaled, giving her exactly what she asked for.

 

The climax was simultaneous; he released his grip on her and lay next to her. She panted, attempting to catch her breath. He turned to face her.

 

> “I’m sorry, Jane.” He ran his talons lightly across her cheek.
> 
>  
> 
> “I’m sorry too, Garrus.” She almost let a tear fall. “Don’t leave us again. Please…” She reached over to him, and he pulled her close in an embrace.
> 
>  
> 
> “Don’t let me be that stupid again.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I tried a sexy-time scene. I felt... dirty... But I love it so there it is. XD 
> 
> I also discovered Block Text form... which is glorious. I have revised all chapters.
> 
> I hope this is coming along decently. I had an epiphany a few chapters ago and scrapped mass amounts of work to create a new storyline. I'm not quite sure where to take this next.
> 
> I hope you guys like it! C:


	7. Victorious

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Their private funeral is held on a beach in the lower east coast of America. The couple realize their mistakes; how far they have come off track in their journey with each other. The many feels and fluff.

Golden rings stung Garrus’ eyes as they looked toward the sea. Salty sweet aromas drifted through the air as they stood barefooted in the delicate, abstract sand. A wave washed up to their feet, covering Shepard’s ten toes and his talons before retreating to the body from where it came. He attempted to look up to the orange sky, but the blinding sun forced him to turn his gaze back down to his wife. Her dark locks billowed smoothly in the breeze. A flowing, thin, black mesh dress loosely covered her body. He wore his Palaven military “blues,” black pants and pea-coat style jacket. The humidity was beginning to set in, even this early in the morning, and the sun was warming his skin even then.

 

She gripped the urn tightly against her chest, clutching so tight he thought it might shatter. She looked off into the distance in utter silence. He held his hands in front of himself, and stood strong behind her. After around twenty more minutes of listening to the seagulls, lapping shore and soft breeze mourn along with them, he began to sing a song of his own. He hummed deep within his chest the lullaby he sings to Tarren. He heard her hum along with him after a few moments.

 

He continued to purr as he laid a hand on her shoulder. She stood as cold and still as stone; no tears fell, nor a whimper escaped from her throat. She finally let a heavy sigh breathe into the world, and allowed herself to continue. They hadn’t spoken, truly spoken about this yet. It had been weeks, and she couldn’t allow herself to fall into vulnerability again. Her mouth was dry, and her throat lumped with emotion. She took another moment to push the bulge away before she began.

 

>  
> 
> “I’m sorry, Garrus.” She kept her gaze fixed at the horizon.
> 
>  
> 
> He shook his head, not about to allow her to fall into guilt. “No.”
> 
>  
> 
> “You are my husband. I shouldn’t have gone to Omega.”
> 
>  
> 
> Damn. Whenever he was right, he was too right at the wrong time. “I’m sorry I didn’t stop you.”
> 
>  
> 
> “You did everything you could.” She took another pause. “I’m sorry I was weak. Am weak. Will be weak.”
> 
>  
> 
> “Weak?” He swallowed the anger starting to burn in his chest. This was not any time for anger. “I’m sorry I was not stronger for you. I was a pitiful excuse for my race.” He allowed a second to pass before continuing. “I should have supported you more. I should have been there. I should have been a better father to Tarren and husband to you.”
> 
>  
> 
> “I am your wife. Mother to your children. But I have failed in both duties. Tarren has been exposed to bloodshed, and that is something we both vowed against on our wedding night.”

 

> Garrus took her point, but could not agree with her completely. “It’s not like we were raising him on ship.”
> 
>  
> 
> A long moment passed before she could allow herself to speak. “I am a survivor. I have survived death. But this… makes me not want to.” She bowed her head to the urn.
> 
>  
> 
> “I was raised a warrior. I am a warrior. It is my blood to fight, take what is mine and protect it. I have failed and dishonored myself in a way I never thought I could.”
> 
>  
> 
> “We’ve failed.” She finally brought her face to him, her stare boring into his.
> 
>  
> 
> “We failed.” He accepted. “I want you to know…” He took one of her hands in his, “That I love her. When I first held her, I felt as much love for her as I did for Tarren. A… a part of me is gone, Jane. I will never be complete as I once thought I was.”
> 
>  
> 
> A single tear streamed down her face. “I love her, too.”
> 
>  

He wiped it from her face, “If I could take anything back, I would have cradled your belly as we slept instead of giving you my back. I would have listened to your tummy and sang lullabies to her every night.” A flow of tears came falling from her eyes, yet her face was sculpted and unmoving. “I would have shaken my self-hatred, guilt, worry, jealousness—I would have traded it all in to show her love before she went, because she deserves life more than I.”

 

Jane almost broke. Her voice began to crack as she quietly attempted to speak. He raised his other hand to her face to push her hair back out of her face.

>  
> 
> “Jane… this battle is over. It didn’t end the way we planned, but it’s over. There’s nothing we can do. I love you with everything I have, and that’s all I’ve got. We are all that she has, and we can love her, no matter what affect her conception had on our lives.” He drew her in to an embrace. “And she has a big brother to love her too.”

 

She reveled in his comforting embrace, and let his words burn into her memory forever. He had made every point there was to make, and even if she disagreed, she wouldn’t fight him. She waited until her tears stopped, and allowed the breeze to pick up again before she faced the sea.

 

> “We watched creation come undone.”

 

Garrus looked off at the sky, shifting now from pink to orange and blue, and followed Jane’s hands as she released the top of the urn. Ashes flowed through the air in a cloud of grey that shimmered against the sunlight. The ash floated in the sky until falling to the surface of the water. Jane sat cross legged in the sand, watching the ash drift down and out to the ocean. Her face expressionless, her eyes fixed on the surface. After a few cold waves washed up on them, the ashes were no longer visible.

 

Garrus sat behind her and pulled her into his chest. He circled his arms and legs around in a protective ring and became a bed of comfort to her sorrow. Her heart beat slowly, painfully continuing with each count. Her breaths were shallow and far between, as if it were a chore to keep them going. She looked up at him, the sun reflecting off her huge eyes as he smoothed her hair back away from them. Her beauty was so intense in her natural world; so magnified compared to their existence in space. The Earthen smells, landscapes, and her comfort of breathing her own oxygen was enough for him to pack up the condo on Illium and settle here.

 

  
She thought of Tarren; how sorry of an excuse for a mother she had become. Not only had she lost the child she never wanted, she was so pitiful of her own existence that she secretly begged for death. She wanted her daughter; it had taken her death for her to realize how much that being meant to her. All the bloodshed she had witnessed, all the deaths that she had caused; they meant nothing compared to the life she couldn’t save.

 

The moment of being powerless; helpless; nothing she could have done could have saved her. Not to mention, her son watched the entire episode, and felt every pain alongside her. His blood shouted and screamed for him to save his mother, his female. Reality smacked him hard and he kept fighting. The baby loves nothing more than his mother, and he could not save her from what had happened, nor his sibling fighting for life inside her. He had been broken, and was still so young.

 

Cerberus rebuilt her entire being after death. She was gone. Completely. They took her remains and made her herself again. Life and death collided and the concept of mortality blurred as she took her first breaths on her own; what made her deserve it? What had God given her that couldn’t have been given to her child? She was a leader. She saved lives and ended them. She was a hero. But bloody hell, anyone could do that. Why did she have to be reborn? What made her deserve two chances at life, while her daughter wasn’t given any choice but to perish?

 

Garrus was right. This battle was over. There was nothing left to do with the failure. She could allow guilt to follow her for her entire life, or they could move on. Take care of their son; ensure he is safe, and protected. They could do nothing else but love her after death.

 

She turned the front of the urn towards her to read the inscription again. In English and Turian was written the same phrase:

> ~~~ OUR DAUGHTER _________ FOREVER RESTS IN PEACE ~~~

 

She ran her thumb over the blank place, letting out a sigh as she ran through every name she had ever encountered. Garrus watched her and noticed her knee tick as it usually did when Shepard was about to make a decision. He ran a talon through her hair.

 

> “What do you think?” He said quietly.

 

> “I don’t know. I don’t know any sort of Batarian names.”
> 
>  
> 
> “Well, it doesn’t necessarily need to be Batarian.”
> 
>  
> 
> “What do you think then?” She turned her head over her shoulder to almost face him.
> 
>  
> 
> He raised his head to the sky, clacking his mandibles in thought. “I met a beautiful Batarian woman as Archangel. She lived in the 400 block of the slum my team and I worked in. She had four children with no mate, and struggled to survive. I always kept a look out for her, even as wary as she was of us.”
> 
>  
> 
> Shepard was quiet, waiting for him to continue, brushing the hair from her face and looking down at the empty urn again.
> 
>  
> 
> “I was patrolling with Sidonis past her apartment, and I heard her scream from the street. We came running up the stairs, smashing her door open, and taking the shot at the Vorcha who held her at the throat against the wall. He screamed for money, and she screamed ‘Nish-ba’al.’”

 

> “What is that? God? Stop?”
> 
>  
> 
> He took a long pause. “It was the name of her child that was bleeding on the floor. Still a baby.”
> 
>  
> 
> She was silent. “Did it…”
> 
>  
> 
> “We got there in time and he survived. Turned out she had an aneurism in her brain that wouldn’t have been found if she hadn’t been hit with the butt of a pistol three times.”
> 
>  
> 
> “That’s… crazy…”
> 
>  
> 
> “Last I knew, she was okay. The mother wasn’t hurt. Everybody was… okay.”
> 
>  
> 
> Shep said it aloud several times, “Nishba’al.”

 

> Garrus was quiet. He loved the way it sounded. He finally said it back to her. “Nishba’al.”

 

The waves lapped up to them as they sat on the shore. The water was cold, but soothing. As the sun warmed their skin, the breeze cooled the damp parts of their legs in between the waves. The sky turned bright blue behind the white cotton balls in the air. Organic smells were almost overwhelming to the couple that had spent the last 2 decades in either cities or space. Each blade of grass brushed against one another, while gulls perched on rocky formations along the coast or soared through the sky, calling out to each other.

 

After leaving Earth, he wanted to solemnly bring up the topic again; he opted to say everything that could come to his mind.

>  
> 
> “Jane.” She turned herself around in the sand to face him, laying the urn in her lap. “The doctor told me about everything that day we came to see you. About the procedure and the… prognosis.”
> 
>  
> 
> “Prognosis was good; I am alive and well, just a little sore still.” She tilted her head, realizing there must be more he had to say. “What…”
> 
>  
> 
> “He said… You probably won’t have children again. Is that… Okay?” He kept his breath in his chest, not wanting to see her reaction or hear the answer.
> 
>  
> 
> After a long pause, she said, “No.” Jane stared intently into his eyes, her face blank, but eyes squinting against the sun. “No, it’s not okay. I want Tarren to have siblings. But I have my baby at home, and he is my world, Garrus. He’s all I need.”

 

Garrus sighed heavily, his heart melting. He took her face in his hand and relished the look of her eyes as he stared into her soul. He watched her demons fall to the ground as she told them she was done; she may have lost this battle, but the wars are over, and she remains victorious.

 

He brought her face to his and kissed her sweetly. She held him at the waist, and let the kiss linger. His metallic scent drifted into her nostrils, and she took it in deeply. The familiarity of his touch was all she needed right now. Her heart was broken into a thousand pieces, in a way that nothing could ever repair them, but he would be there. He would stand alongside her and retrieve every piece, even if it took them eternity.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! I don't know if this is where I should end this... I feel like it would be a great place to stop, but... I just don't want to! XD


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